


Bootyful Physique

by casstayinmyass



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Crack, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Based On Misha's Sergei Random Acts Character, Bottom Dean, Cas Doesn't Speak English Very Well, Cock Slut Dean, Crack, Crack Treated Seriously, Dean Reminds Me Of Sharpay In This, Dean in Shorts, Douchebag AU, Douchey Castiel, Fabulous Dean, M/M, Milkshakes, Personal Trainer Castiel, Rich Dean, Russian Castiel, Sassy Dean, Sergei Sergeiovich Sarghoff, Snobby Dean, Socialite Dean, Top Castiel, Top Castiel/Bottom Dean Winchester, based on a prompt, booty shorts, sex in a hot tub
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-20
Updated: 2015-12-20
Packaged: 2018-05-07 20:06:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5469332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/casstayinmyass/pseuds/casstayinmyass
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean Winchester, rich socialite with a love of booty shorts, goes to meet his new personal trainer, Russian body coach Castiel Sarghoff.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bootyful Physique

**Author's Note:**

> Based on an amazing fb prompt hehe.

-0-0-0-

 

Dean Winchester, rich and fabulous socialite, walked into the Bootyful Personal Fitness Centre, his yorkie in one hand and a venti strawberry banana soy milkshake in the other. He was dressed in a white tank top, with denim cutoff shorts that hugged his butt perfectly. _'You Wanna Be On Top'_ by Tyra Banks was playing through his earbuds as he walked.

He went to the gym every day, and had been going to Crowley's Health and Wellness for four years, but after a man named Alastair had bought the place, the workouts were simply too brutal and too torturous to stay.

So Dean got a new membership at a new place called Bootyful, and strutted in like he already owned the place.

"Hi, I'd like a membership," he said, pattering his fingers against the desk where the receptionist worked. She had blonde hair and looked excited/surprised that somebody had asked her something.

"Oh! Oh my gods, yeah, for sure! Can I get your name?"

"Winchester," Dean sighed, not removing his aviators, "Dean Winchester." He said it as if it was a name to be revered; which, _duh_ , it was with a physique like his.

The receptionist, who had a nametag that read Becky that Dean paid no attention to, looked up again after typing something.

"Can I take your picture, please?"

Dean just posed, and Becky silently compared it to the Blue Steel with a suppressed giggle as she took the picture for the membership card.

"Okay! Have a great day," she grinned sweetly, and Dean didn't bother answering as he lifted his dog over the counter.

"You'll take care of him?"

"Sure!"

"No loud sounds or frightening situations, he pees when he's nervous," he informed Becky, and watched his little dog curl up at the receptionist's feet. Then he walked over to the change rooms. Inside, there was a group of guys drying their hair after what looked like a couple of hours of cardio. One wolf whistled as Dean began to take his tank off, and he spun around, narrowing his eyes at them.

"You don't _get_ this," he snarked, running a finger up and down his body, then spun back around. The guys just backed off and left, and Dean resumed taking off his clothes. He was a little self conscious about taking them off in front of people, even though he was used to flaunting his beautiful body. Some things were just private, okay?

He slipped into his spandex shirt, and put on a pair of hot pink booty shorts, sauntering out into the foyer again to find the gym.

"This way?" he asked Becky, and she nodded enthusiastically.

Dean made his way down the hall, and swung the gym door open...

To find the sexiest man he had ever seen inside the empty exercise room, lifting purple dumbbells and listening to angry rap ( _could it be called rap?)_ music. He was dressed in tight black shorts that went down to mid thigh, and a grey T-shirt with a navy velour zip-up. He also had a thin, barely there mustache.

"Oh! Hello," the man said, in noticing Dean in the floor to ceiling mirrors. He had a thick Russian accent, which was making Dean sexually flustered.

"I'll be your personal trainer, Castiel Sergei Sergeiovich Sarghoff!" he said, raising a dom eyebrow at Dean, "You may call me," he said loudly, taking a piece of chalk and writing it on a blackboard, "CAS. You are?"

"Dean," Dean said, licking his lips and moving his sunglasses to the top of his head, "Dean Winchester."

"Mmm, you have... magnificent physique," Castiel drawled, unashamedly running his piercing blue eyes up and down Dean's body, "Such pretty muscular form... but there is still work to be done. I will help you, eh, have strong physique, like me!"

"Uh... no offense, honeytoes, but you look like you could pack a few more pounds of muscle on before reaching my level of Adonis-ness," Dean retorted, flicking hair that he didn't have over his shoulder.

Castiel suddenly surged forward, and grabbed Dean's hand. Dean was about to snatch it away in surprise, but Cas placed Dean's hand on his chest, rubbing it up and down eagerly.

"Feel my muscular density, yes?" he asked, eyebrows lifting, and he moved Dean's hand over to his bicep.

"This is long, hard hours of work," he nodded seriously, and then smirked. "Not only thing long and hard, heh."

Dean blushed furiously, and ripped his hand away, looking at his feet.

"Look, I didn't come here to get hit on, get on with the training, okay? I'm very busy, I've got a lunch at 12:30 and a meeting at 3."

Cas nodded, and Dean tried to hide how attracted he was to his trainer because the shorts he was wearing really did _nothing at all_ to hide his junk.

"Okay... squat your legs like _zis_ ," he said, and Dean frowned, watching Cas bend in impossible ways. He actually had to bite his lip when he saw how good Cas' ass looked in those stretchy pants he was wearing.

"You try now," Cas said, motioning for him to take a mat, "Then you will have good strong physique."

Dean grumbled something, but was soon pushed onto his knees by his trainer.

"Start here, yes, and squat your way up, using power in your knees," Cas explained, and Dean felt his cock twitch a little at Castiel's firm hand on his shoulder. He was now eye level with his trainer's bulge, and that got Dean wondering what Cas would taste like...

_No, but giving Castiel a blow job would ruin the taste of his venti strawberry banana soy milkshake, and that milkshake tasted good._

"Did I, as you say... stutter?" Cas asked, raising that dom eyebrow again, and Dean shuddered, shaking his head.

"Then continue as I said."

Dean swallowed, and nodded, feeling his knees wobble as he attempted to hoist himself up. He wasn't used to doing exercises like this; he was more into weight training, and he couldn't make the switch this easily.

"Hey, 'scuse me, Cas?" Dean asked, struggling up as his bow legs buckled, "I can't do this-"

"You CAN, do not use word 'can't' in my gym!"

"-No, I'm saying, my body isn't-"

"Ah ah ah! Hush your pretty mouth now, okay? I will make better."

"Whaa...?"

"We will modify, yes?"

"Uhm... o-okay..."

"Like zis, watch me."

"Okay."

Castiel bent over, and began doing pushups, with one leg in the air. Dean had to say, this man's legs were as sexy as the rest of him. And against his leg, was that the outline of-?

"Okay?" Cas asked, deep blue eyes searching Dean's green ones, and Dean blinked twice.

"Yeah, it's okay. I'm good at push-ups."

He got down, and started doing some, even showing off a little. After thirty, he suddenly felt the weight of something on his back, and he was disturbed to feel that it was Cas sitting on him.

"What the fuck-?"

"Keep going!" Cas shouted, like a manic scientist who just created Frankenstein, "PUSH YOURSELF!"

Dean choked, and tried to push both him and Cas up a few times. He got into the rhythm of it, and was successful in doing so, until Cas' hand snaked down and rested on Dean's bicep, lightly stroking the muscle there. Dean suddenly fell flat.

"What the hell?" Dean asked, blushing again, and Cas smiled at him endearingly.

"You have body like greek god!" the trainer told him, licking his lips, and Dean wondered if that was just an observation or a flirtation; you couldn't know for sure with this guy.

"Well... you're not so bad yourself, I guess," Dean mumbled, and Cas nodded.

"I know, I have beautiful body."

Dean frowned, and Cas smacked his ass.

"Stand up!"

Dean shot up, and he adjusted his shorts self consciously.

"I'm up."

"Now... instead of the rest of your work out for today, would you like to have sex with me?"

Dean's eyes bugged, and he choked again. "I-I'm sorry, what?" he asked, his cock quickly becoming harder and harder in his booty shorts.

"You have nice body, I would like to touch it in my bed," Cas smiled, like he had just asked for a pen or something, and Dean gave him a bitchface.

"Look pal, I'm gonna have to teach you how to dirty talk, 'cause that just sounds friggin' creepy."

Cas nodded. "Alright. I own this centre. I have access to the spa room... we can use Jacuzzi instead, yes?"

Dean wanted to moan, and bit his lip. To hell with the milkshake. "Yes, please."

Cas grinned, and Dean followed him out of the gym up to the elevator.

"Becky!" Cas called.

"Yes, Mr. Sarghoff, sir?"

"Do not let anyone up to spa, okay? I am showing Dean around the facility."

Becky nodded cheerfully, and went back to typing away.

They waited patiently for the elevator, Dean keeping his hands cupped in front of his crotch in case someone came out of the elevator and saw them or something. Finally, it dinged, and there was thankfully nobody inside.

The doors closed slowly, and as soon as they were fully shut, Cas whipped around, slamming Dean against a wall and kissing him vigorously.

"Fuck, Cas..." Dean muttered, and put his knee up for Cas to grind into. _Geez... the man wasn't joking when he said he was big._

Cas continued to kiss him, and Dean melted into his arms, which were, indeed, stronger than he had initially believed. They finally made it up to the spa level, and kissed all the way to the hot tub. When they made it in, Dean didn't bother taking off his shorts, getting them wet in the warm water.

Cas flipped them over so that Dean was straddling him, and the bigger man began to roll his hips down, feeling Cas' hard-on dig into his ass. He lifted himself up, and Cas licked his fingers, inserting one, then two, up his trainee's ass. Dean groaned, and tilted his head back as he fucked himself down on Cas' long, slender fingers. He wasn't going to last, because damn, Castiel was good at this.

"Are you... ready?" Cas asked with an inquisitive squint after a few moments of preparation, and Dean nodded fervently, reaching down to peel down the spandex of Cas' shorts and free his cock. Cas held Dean's hips, and lowered him down over his dick slowly.

Dean gasped, wondering when the last time he'd had a fuck this good was. Benny Lafitte, his neighbor, had been amazing...  the hot waiter at that country club, Tadley, was pretty good...

But _this_. This was fucking amazing, and Dean was sure he would walk funny for the next few days. At least he could pass it off as the new gym switch to friends and family.

"Ah!" Dean panted as Cas hit his prostate, and Cas grinned.

"You're... so good... Dean," he muttered, and dragged his lips up Dean's neck. Dean clung onto him for the ride, and sobbed out a moan as he felt his cock throb.

"Gonna come... _Cas_..."

" _Ohhh_ ," Cas breathed, and bit down into Dean's shoulder as he massaged Dean's ass cheeks, making Dean cry out and come untouched.

"Yes, yes..." Cas muttered, eyes screwed shut in concentration, and suddenly, Dean felt him come inside of him as well. Shit, it felt hot. The man he had been riding was hotter than the goddamn Jacuzzi.

"Okay?" Cas asked, searching Dean's eyes, and Dean nodded, getting up and sitting down beside him. After a couple of silent seconds, Cas reached over, and gave Dean a deep, sweeping kiss on the lips, tongue exploring his mouth.

Dean blushed for what felt like the hundredth time that day, and ran a hand through his hair.

"Um, well... I'd better get going," he said quickly, and Cas looked dismayed.

"You will be back, yes? I have yet to make you strong, like me."

Dean smirked a little, and nodded. "Yeah, Cas... I'll be back."

Cas smiled again, and Dean hurriedly wiped his own grin away, realizing what just happened. He couldn't tell _anybody_ about this; if he told his sister, Jo, she'd reprimand him for being a cockslut, _again_ , and Sam, well... Sam would probably need brain bleach.

He wrapped a stray towel around his lower half, as his soaked shorts were now clinging to his balls in a rather embarrassing way, and composed himself. With a sharp exhale, he pursed his lips, and sauntered out, swinging his hips as he left.

Cas watched him go, and nodded.

"Such beautiful body. I train him well," he told himself with a sigh, and snapped, the sound-activated rap music beginning to play in the spa area.

Dean hurried down to the change room, finishing his smoothie in one gulp. He had to get home and get a shower, _pronto_ , because one, he hated looking like a wet dog, and two, he hated having cum in his ass for a long time.

Of course, it didn't bother him much this time, thinking of the sexy man who had just fucked him. Yeah, Cas was weird, and kind of douchey, but Dean couldn't get those blue eyes and sex hair off of his mind. He was hopeless when it came to tall, dark and handsome men.

He dialed a number on his phone, and called his private chauffeur to help him get home discreetly.

"Bye, Mr. Winchester!" Becky waved, "Will we be seeing you again?"

Dean put on his sunglasses, and stuck his hand on his hip fabulously as he picked up his little yipping dog.

"Hell yes, you'll be seeing me again."


End file.
